Moving On
by Mewlin
Summary: After an anticlimactic end to the war, Harry returns to Grimmauld Place. He needs to move on with his life, but will they let him?
1. End of Voldemort

**Title: **Moving On

**Author's Name: **Mewlin

**Beta Reader:** NitaPotter - Thanks SO much!! You're brilliant!!

**Rating: **T

**Spoilers: **PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OoTP, HBP

**Warnings: **Non-Main Character deaths, angst

**Summary: **After an anticlimactic end to the war, Harry returns to Grimmauld Place. He needs to move on with his life, but will they let him?

**Disclaimer: **All characters and events you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling among others. I hold no claim to any of it. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

* * *

Twenty year old Harry Potter didn't even bother to hide his shocked expression as he watched a gibbering Lord Voldemort commit suicide. It was, perhaps, the most anticlimactic ending for a war. Then, again, Harry supposed it made sense. The horcruxes were part of Voldemort's soul, part of his essence, part of who he was. In that end, it made sense that as they were destroyed, thus so was Voldemort as well as his followers. As Voldemort died, so did his marked Death Eaters.

Harry stifled a snort at the thought. Voldemort was a sadist, through and through it seemed. While reduced to a spirit, his Mark merely faded. When reduced to nothing, so were his followers. Bending down to press his fingers at the pulse point at Snape's neck, he frowned._ Dead. _ Now he'd never know the truth about what happened those three years ago.

As Harry stood up, he pulled out his wand and calmly cast an _Incendio _curse at Voldemort's body, then turned and walked away. It was time to move on.

* * *

Three years ago, Harry had made his fateful decision not to return to Hogwarts if it re-opened. While touched that his friends wanted to go with him, he had not let him. One night, after Headmaster Dumbledore's portrait had woke up; Harry had snuck into the office to speak with him. They talked all through the night, but when morning came, nobody could find Harry Potter.

Harry had not let himself be seen in the Wizarding World since; he'd adopted an alias, and when forced to communicate with others, kept himself cloaked.

Searching for the remaining Horcruxes had been long, detailed, and an expensive business. Trinkets belonging to such famous and wonderful wizards and witches weren't easy to come by, and those who held claim to them did not want to let go of them, unless the price was just right. So Harry came close to exhausting his inheritance. He'd refused to sink to Voldemort's level of depravity by stealing the very same objects.

As each Horcrux was destroyed, Harry, living under the name Jay Miles, heard about more and more deaths, including those of the Dursleys. Apparently, Voldemort had figured out what Harry had been doing, and sought to flush him out.

Harry had mourned the passing of the last of his relatives, but had moved on quickly. They had not loved him, had barely provided for him, and yet, in some way he was grateful. He was comfortable on his own and did not suffer greatly from eating less, or sleeping in uncomfortable or cold places. Their neglect had prepared him for this task far better than any amount of coddling or smothering ever could have.

In the end, Nagini had been the hardest of the Horcruxes to destroy. Harry didn't consider himself a murderer, and killing something that he could speak to rubbed against the grain, and yet, he did. It turned out to be Voldemort's un-doing.

* * *

Harry apparated back to his tent, some forty kilometers away from Little Hangleton and Voldemort's burning body. The camouflaged tent blended flawlessly into the forest, and had he not been living in the enchanted tent for the last six months, he might've had a difficult time finding it. Harry was actually quite proud of his spell work, as he'd watched many a hiker set up camp right next to him, never even considering that he might be in the company of the world's most famous missing person.

Collapsing into his cot, Harry closed his eyes, wondering, praying that it was finally over. That his task was done and that he could finally live his life rather than have it lived for him. He wondered if he had destroyed Voldemort, thus fulfilling the prophecy, or had Voldemort destroyed himself. Thinking over the entire thing, Harry decided that he was far too tired to wrestle with the ins-and-outs of a stupid prophecy. He just wanted to sleep.

Sleep came, but peace did not. Ghosts of old nightmares haunted him, as always, as he watched old friends, mentors, and loved ones die. He heard the echoes of his mother's screams as she pleaded with Voldemort not to kill her baby. He watched Sirius' shocked expression as he fell backwards into the veil. He saw Headmaster Dumbledore's body burn as they all said their final goodbyes. Waking with a start, he wished he'd paid more attention in Potions. Dreamless Sleep or a calming draught would be wonderful about now. Harry just wanted to _rest._

The next day, Harry sat out side, eating on the rabbit stew he'd made as he decided whether or not to return to the Wizarding World proper. Harry wasn't a fool. The Boy-Who-Lived was now the Man-Who-Killed-You-Know-Who. He'd never get any peace. Yet, he missed his friends dearly. He missed real, comforting, human contact. Right now, he knew that he'd welcome Mrs. Weasley's smothering hugs. Well, for a while, anyway. Most of all, Harry wanted to see Dumbledore's portrait. He wanted to look him right in his painted twinkles and tell his mentor that he'd done it, that Voldemort was dead. Dead and gone, and he'd never, ever return. Harry wanted to give his mentor that much, to let the old man rest in peace, and let his portrait just be the honored Late Headmaster of Hogwarts, defeater of Grindlwald and discoverer of the twelve uses for Dragon Blood instead of being a painted war consultant.

Harry wanted to tell the Weasleys that they could be safe. He wanted to tell Remus that he didn't have to worry about putting himself in danger with the other werewolves, to tell Tonks that she needed to catch herself a wolf and marry him, if she hadn't already. He wanted to tell Hermione that she didn't need to be worried about being persecuted by pureblooded elitist Death Eaters any more. He wanted to tell Hermione that…

He wanted to tell them that they could all live now. That, for the time being, there was no Dark Lord. No malignant ooze out to destroy them all.

Again though, Harry was no fool. He knew that he'd have to give up his precious anonymity, he'd be expected to give reports on everything, to have ministry officials dredge through his accounts of what happened. He knew he'd be faced with suspicions and those who would call him a liar to his face. He knew he might be faced with Veritiserum, and then, when finally they believed him, he'd be lifted up on that stupid pedestal. He'd be in the public eye for the rest of his life.

Yet, Harry felt that they all deserved to know that they were safe again. He supposed that, if in the end it became too much, he could adopt the alias of Jay Miles again, and leave. He had, after all, fooled them all with it once before.

Finally reaching his decision, Harry packed away the last of his stew, doused the flames, and began undoing the wards on his tent before packing it up. As an afterthought, he looked up to Hedwig, his ever faithful companion, and ended the charms that had made her look, and sound, like a plain brown owl.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, as he ran his fingers through her soft feathers. "Are you ready to go back, girl?"

Hedwig offered Harry a soft sound of encouragement and nuzzled his hand slightly. "Come find me when you're rested."

Then, with a sharp crack, Harry disapparated into Diagon Alley. Once there, he swiftly went through the Leaky Cauldron and into the Muggle part of town before anybody could recognize him. It had been so long since Harry had been in London proper that he'd almost forgotten his way around, and so it was late afternoon when he'd finally located Grimmauld Place. Once he reached Number 12, he knocked.

Harry stepped back as the door was opened slowly, and, cautiously, one Remus Lupin, looking older than Harry had ever seen him, raised his wand. "Who… Dear Merlin, Harry!" The older man cried.

Green eyes met brown, and Harry offered a somewhat shy smile. "Hey, Professor."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ok, so, there ends the first chapter of Moving On. Is it worth continuing or should I just end it here.

Jay Miles - Voldemort isn't the only one who can do anagrams! Jay Miles is an anagram of 'James Lily'. I thought it would be better than doing something like Evan James, Harry Jameson, or any of the other commonly used ones, plus it's non-descript.


	2. Painted Blue Eyes

**Title:** Moving On

**Chapter: **2

**Disclaimer: **All characters and events you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling among others. I hold no claim to any of it. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

**Author's Notes: **Here's chapter 2 all!! Many, many thanks to NitaPotter, my beta reader. (Check out her story, it's great!)

**Chapter 2 - **Painted Blue Eyes

Remus Lupin couldn't help but just stare at the youth in front of him. After three years, _three bloody years_, of being missing, Harry had come back. He was possibly thinner than Remus had ever seen him, and absolutely filthy, but he looked whole.

"Come in," he managed to croak. "Where have you been?!"

Harry offered his old professor a wan smile. "About forty kilometers from Little Hangleton, mostly; Horcrux Hunting," was the reply as Harry walked in, shifting the weight of his pack.

Remus stopped then. "Hor-, Harry James Potter, you just disappeared three years ago, we've been searching for you ever since. Don't you have any idea how worried we were about you?! We've had search parties out looking for you ever since! Why couldn't you have at least sent us a message, left a note, something?!" he shouted.

Absently, Harry wondered why Mrs. Black wasn't shrieking her painted head off, but then he turned his attention back on the werewolf. "I wanted it over." he said simply, then ran his fingers through his filthy hair. "The day I left, I spent all night talking with Professor Dumbledore's portrait. We talked for hours, going over where and what the last four Horcruxes might be. Why didn't you just ask him where I went?" Harry asked, obviously bewildered.

To Harry's complete shock, Remus snarled. "Bloody interfering, manipulative old codger. He told us he had no idea where you'd gone off too!" Closing his eyes, Remus took a deep breath, then shocked Harry again, by pulling him into a rough hug.

"Thank Merlin you're safe."

Having had so little human contact most of his life, and especially over the last three years, it took Harry a moment to figure out what he was supposed to do, but finally, he hugged Remus back. "I missed you to, Professor."

Molly, who had been in the kitchen waiting for Remus to come back with whomever had knocked on the door, finally got tired of waiting. "Remus, who was at the door?" she asked, shocked to see the reserved man hugging somebody with short messy black hair. "Oh, Tonks?" she asked, thinking that it was Tonks' look of the day.

Remus and Harry let go of each other and burst out laughing. "Harry's back, Molly," Remus said, shoving Harry in front of him, perfectly content to let the pup take Molly's wrath, and hugs, without interference from him.

"Harry!!" Molly shrieked, moving so fast that Harry wondered if she'd been propelled by magic. Suddenly, Harry was being wrapped in the tightest hug he'd ever had. "You foolish, foolish boy! Thank Merlin you're back!" she murmured, refusing to let go. Harry might've tried to reassure the woman that he was fine, but his air supply was being hindered greatly, and Remus Lupin wasn't about to come to his rescue.

When Molly finally let go, she began searching Harry for wounds. "Stick thin, that's what you are, skin and bone," she said, tears running down her face as she wrapped her arms around the boy again.

Remus finally decided that Harry had been punished enough and came to his rescue. "Molly, why don't you let Harry go get cleaned up, then you can feed him to your heart's content," he offered.

Molly nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, yes, of course. Harry, you go upstairs and take a bath. Remus, you find him some clean clothes that will fit. I'll go fix something for us to eat," she said, shooing both men upstairs.

"Hey, Remus?" Harry asked, rubbing his sore ribs. "What happened to Mrs. Black's portrait?"

Remus offered Harry a wolfish grin that took years off his face. "Well, we got good and sick of her, after you left. Smarmy old witch that she was. Hermione went into a towering rage and painted a goatee and mustache on her, we have pictures of that, then finally we just cut the wall out, spelled her so that she couldn't tell any Order secrets, and donated her, wall and all, to Azkaban prison. We figured they needed some… beautification," he smirked.

Harry had stopped climbing the stairs and was almost howling with laughter. "Brilliant!!" he crowed. "Sirius would've _loved_ that!"

Remus grinned sadly. "We did it in his name," he nodded. "Do you remember where the shower is?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry said, still snickering.

"Go bathe, you pup, then come down and let Molly feed you. I'll bring you some clothes," Remus said, nudging Harry up the stairs.

Having been forced to bathe in rivers, ponds, and creeks, Harry was perfectly happy to stand in a hot shower and enjoy the warmth. He washed his hair, and scrubbed the dirt and grime off his body, then stood under the spray of hot water until he heard knocking at the bathroom door. "Are you trying to drown yourself in there, Harry?" Remus called.

Sighing, Harry turned the water off, and wrapped a towel around his waist before stepping out of the bathroom. "It's been three years since I had a hot shower, Professor!" he said, shrugging. "I was enjoying the warm water."

Remus smiled. "First off, I haven't been your professor in almost seven years, please, call me Remus, or even Moony. Second, here's some clothes. I hope you don't mind, but they were Sirius'. You're about the same size as he was after…" Remus trailed off there, not wanting to upset Harry.

"After Azkaban," Harry finished the sentence quietly, taking the clothes. "I've had a long time to deal with that, Moony. I'll always miss him, but I can enjoy his memory now, instead of mourning it."

"Good man," Remus said, gesturing to a room. "I figured after being on your own for so long, you wouldn't be interested with sharing a room with Ron any more."

Harry grinned. "Thanks! I don't know how I would've stood his snoring after all this time!" he said, before opening the door. "Hey, Moony," Harry murmured quietly, not turning around. "I'm sorry I worried you."

Remus sighed. "Go get dressed, then come downstairs, cub."

Harry came downstairs several minutes later, tripping over the long hem of his trousers. He was about the rip the length off when Molly fired off a spell that shortened his pants. Looking up, Harry offered his surrogate mother a grin. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley!" he said.

"Of course, Harry dear, come sit down and eat before a soft breeze blows you away," Molly said, setting a plate of food down at the table for him.

"Thanks." Harry said, inwardly wincing at the sheer amount of food she decided he needed to eat. Harry thought that Mrs. Weasley must be part house-elf, the way she fixed food, but he wasn't about to complain. As long as it wasn't rabbit or fish, he would be happy.

"Where is everybody?" Harry finally asked after a few moments of savoring Mrs. Weasley's wonderful food.

It was Molly who answered. "Well, Arthur and Tonks are at work at the Ministry. The Twins are at their shop. They're doing so well, bless them. Ron and Ginny are with Seamus, off looking for you. Oh, that reminds me, dear. Ginny married Seamus seven months ago." Molly stopped to see Harry's reaction, knowing that he and Ginny had briefly dated before Harry had gone missing.

Harry blinked for a moment, then grinned. "Congratulations to her then! When will they be back?"

"They're due back in about three days dear," Molly replied, then continued on. "Hermione's teaching at Hogwarts, now; Transfiguration, since Minerva became Headmistress. Poor dear, she misses you something awful. Let's see… oh, Alastair was killed by Death Eaters two years ago, the dear man."

Harry set his fork down and clenched his fists in his lap. Remus laid a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, lad, Mad Eye went out fighting, it was how he wanted to go, taking the bad guy with him."

Nodding his head and sighing, Harry finished his meal in silence. He never realized how pleased he had made Molly feel by finishing all the food she'd placed before him.

Finally, after several more moments of conversation Harry looked over to Remus. "I want to go to Hogwarts and talk to Dumbledore now. There are some things I need to tell him," he said.

Before Remus could get in a single syllable, Molly interrupted. "Harry, you need to rest! You just got back, you can't leave already!!"

Sighing, Harry looked up, refusing to be cowed by the Weasley matriarch. "Mrs. Weasley, I understand that I worried everybody, but I won't apologize for doing what I did. I will explain everything that happened later, but first I need to talk with Dumbledore." he looked over to Remus. "Please Moony..."

"Alright, cub, come on," Remus said, standing up and ignoring Molly's indignant huff. Once in the living room, Harry took a pinch of Floo Powder and looked at Remus expectantly. "Did you need something, Harry?" Remus asked, smirking slightly.

"The address, you old wolf!" Harry said, offering a matching grin.

Remus gaped. "Old, why I ought to… Alright you whelp, it's Hogwarts Headmistress' Office." he said, arms crossed.

Shaking his head, Harry tossed the powder in the fire and stepped in, reciting the address carefully as he took his glasses off.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had never felt like she was meant for this office. She had been perfectly happy being Gryffindor's Head of House, Deputy Headmistress, and the Transfiguration Professor. If she were to be honest with herself, she would say that she had been perfectly happy when Albus Dumbledore was alive.

The poor man, she reflected, didn't seem to get any peace, even in death, as it seemed that in these times, some people were willing to get his advice, even if it was just from his portrait. Every day it would be the same thing. She would return to the office after dinner, Albus would look at her and ask the same question, 'Has anybody heard from Harry?' Every day she was forced to give the same answer, 'No, Albus. Nothing.'

She was shocked out of her reverie when the fireplace flared green and a spinning body gracelessly fell out and on to her rug. Minerva's wand was out before the person could even shake the soot out of his hair.

"Who are you?" she asked, standing up and marching around the desk, only to take a step back, when brilliant green eyes looked up at her.

Harry Potter shook the soot out of his hair and stood up, grumbling under his breath about Floo Powder and it's subsequent evils, then looked up at his former Transfiguration Professor.

"Good evening, Professor," he said, quietly. "I wonder if I should thank you again for the Nimbus 2000 you bought me my first year. I did so enjoy flying it," he offered as proof that he was truly Harry Potter.

Minerva gasped, as did some of the portraits behind her. "Harry, where… where exactly have you been, young man?" she asked sternly, advancing on her former student.

Harry, for his part, effectively felt like a first year again as he bowed his head and tried not to fidget. Finally he remembered that he was twenty years old now and looked up. He looked past his old Head of House and right to Dumbledore's painted blue eyes. "He's gone, sir. Voldemort, he's dead."


	3. Arguments

**Title**: Moving On

**Chapter**: 3

**Disclaimer**: All characters and events you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling among others. I hold no claim to any of it. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

**Author's Notes**: Hi everybody. I'm so sorry about the delay in getting this out!! I hope you enjoy this new chapter as it has a lot of people's reactions to Harry's reappearance. I'd like to thank NitaPotter for betaing this for me. Goodness knows how many idiotic mistakes I'd make without her! Love ya like a sister, Nita!! I'd also like to thank everybody who reviewed. I hope you enjoy this installment of Moving On.

**Chapter 3** - Arguments

"He's gone, sir. Voldemort's dead," Harry said, staring right at Dumbledore's portrait, his green eyes calm and steely hard.

"He's dead, and I've done what the Wizarding World should have done, instead of piling the responsibility on a kid. What's past is past though, isn't it, sir?"

Harry looked worriedly over at McGonagall when she sat down heavily, one hand on her heart, the other covering her mouth. Turning towards his old Head of House, Harry's eyes softened some as he crouched down in front of her.

"Professor? Are you well?" He asked.

Minerva McGonagall looked up into world weary green eyes and in an uncharacteristic gesture, she drew the young man into a fierce hug. "You dear foolish boy…" she murmured into his hair.

Harry, for his part wasn't entirely certain how to react to this situation. Hugs had been few and far between in his life, and he'd certainly never received one from a teacher. Hesitantly, he returned the hug and offered his old professor a lop-sided smile.

Separating, Harry stood up while McGonagall composed herself.

"I know you're curious," he said, addressing the room more than Dumbledore or McGonagall, "but I'd like to save explanations for later. Tomorrow, I'll go to the Ministry."

Then looking towards the Headmistress, he offered a slightly shy expression. "I hope you'll come."

"Of course, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said, looking at her old student fondly. "I wouldn't miss it for all the t--"

"Catnip?" Harry interrupted lightly, earning a glare from the animagus.

"Tea, Mr. Potter. As I was trying to say, I wouldn't miss it for all the tea in China," the Headmistress said, eyes narrowed in mock annoyance.

Grinning, Harry nodded his head. "I should be going back to Grimmauld Place." With his grin fading to a scowl, he grabbed a pinch of floo powder and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Professors."

Just as Harry stepped into the fireplace, calling out his destination, the door to the Headmistress' office opened, revealing Hermione Granger, who stared as she caught a brief glimpse of black hair and green eyes.

"Harry --" she called out, but it was too late, Harry had already left.

_HPHPHPHPHPHP_

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry stumbled out of the floo, only to come face to face with Tonks, Mr. Weasley and the Weasley Twins, Fred and George. Or Gred and Forge, depending on the situation. "Evening," he offered, unsure of the reception.

"'Evening,' he says," one of the twins grumbled. "He's missing for years and all he says is 'evening.'"

Arthur, ever the pacifist, shook his head. "Now boys, I'm sure Harry's got a _very_ good explanation for why he disappeared without even leaving a note, letting your mother worry herself into hysterics, and leaving the Order and the Wizarding World in a panic."

Green eyes darkened as Harry glared at the older man. "You would've preferred that I sit on my bum and let Voldemort and the Death Eater's kill everybody that I cared about?" He snapped. "We tried that, remember? How did that work out? Let's see; oh, right. Sirius got killed. Dumbledore got killed. You wanted non-active, then reactive. I used proactive. Funny, it worked better." Harry's voice rose in crescendo as he carried on, green eyes flashing in annoyance. "Voldemort and his band of merry men are dead. What more do you want?" He asked, stalking into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea.

Tonks followed after Harry before anybody else. "Easy, Harry. We were worried that something had happened to you. Please try to look at it from our perspective; you just up and disappeared, no letter, no warning, no nothing. We were scared and worried about you."

Harry added a couple of lumps of sugar to his tea while he listened to Tonk's impassioned words. "I don't regret what I did, leaving and all. I'm sorry you worried, though," he said, looking her in the eye.

Several minutes of conversation later, everybody looked up to see a very angry Hermione standing in the door way. Just as Harry stood up to greet his old friend, he found himself with a face full of bushy hair and the air being squeezed out of his lungs.

Hermione pulled back then, glared fiercely at Harry the slapped him with all the strength she could muster. Harry, for his part, wasn't sure how to react, so he just stood there, staring at Hermione with wide, shocked eyes.

"You...you..." Hermione sputtered, and then hugged Harry again. "You stupid, foolish, Gryffindor," she snarled, breaking down into sobs, burying her head in his too thin chest.

Sighing slightly and wondering if Hermione knew how much like Mrs. Weasley she'd reacted, Harry patted Hermione awkwardly on the back, then looked on in panic as Remus, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and the Twins left the room.

'Ok, what do I do?' Harry wondered franticly. "Come on Hermione, let's sit down," he said, disentangling himself from his old friend.

Hermione sat down while Harry poured her a cup of tea and handed it to her.

"Harry, how could you go after those Horcruxes alone, especially after what happened to Headmaster Dumbledore?" she asked softly.

Looking down into his teacup, Harry sighed, then looked Hermione in the eyes. "It was because of what happened to Professor Dumbledore that made me decide to go alone, Hermione. Involving other people in what was my battle only got them killed; Voldemort told my mother he wouldn't kill her if she gave me up. Sirius came after me at the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore tried going after the horcruxes. They're all dead. The thought of loosing you and Ron because you tried to help me was more than I could bear."

"Harry, we've done everything together since we were eleven, and the two of you saved me from that stupid troll," Hermione argued. "Maybe you're right, and we couldn't have helped you with the actual destroying of the horcruxes, but we could've been there for you, so you wouldn't be alone all that time," she said, and then looked at her friend, "and to keep you fed."

Harry laughed. "I guess hunting and fishing really isn't my forte," he admitted. "So, er, you and Ron; I guess you two got together?" He asked.

Gaping at Harry, Hermione sputtered and choked on her tea. "Ron and me? Harry, are you delusional? Ill? No, Ron and I never got together, our personalities clash too much. We're good friends, but that's it. We kissed once, and it was gross, like kissing a brother or a cousin. Ron dates here and there between playing Quiddich and searching for you."

Harry nodded, then feeling like a teenager again, looked everywhere but into Hermione's eyes and asked "What about you?"

Trying not to giggle at Harry's obvious discomfort, Hermione smiled. "I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts now, and I haven't dated anybody since, well the Yule Ball in our fourth year," she admitted.

"That's what Mrs. Weasley said. Teaching though, congratulations Hermione!" Harry grinned, once again able to look her in the eye. "That's great; I always thought you'd go into something like that with the way you love to learn. It figures you'd love to teach, too."

Blushing, Hermione preened slightly under Harry's sincere praise. "It is wonderful," she admitted. "And I had plenty of preparation for it, what with trying to get you and Ron to study and our time in the DA," she teased.

Harry grinned and smothered a yawn. "Eat something, Harry. Ron, Ginny, and Seamus are due back soon. You'll need your strength to deal with their tempers," Hermione admonished with a smirk.

"I thought they weren't due back for three days," Harry said, digging around for something to nibble on.

Hermione sighed, then stood up and pushed Harry back into his seat, then went to making him a sandwich, knowing that if she didn't, he'd just eat toast or something insignificant like that. He really needed more food in him.

"They always tell Mrs. Weasley a date much earlier than when they really intend to come back. It keeps her from worrying too much when it get's closer and closer to the time they should be back, and if they're delayed, she never knows it."

"Oh…" Harry said, realizing that part of Mrs. Weasley's worry was caused by him. Mrs. Weasley was the closest thing to a mum he could really remember having, and she was one of the few people that Harry really regretted worrying. "Thanks," he murmured when Hermione set down a ham and cheese sandwich in front of him.

"Relax, Harry," Hermione admonished. "Everything's going to be messy for a while, but it'll calm down. Eat."

Harry offered Hermione a roguish grin and saluted her. "Yes, Professor."

Sputtering and laughing, Hermione lightly whacked Harry across the head. "Prat!"

As it was summer, Hermione stayed at Grimmauld Place for the rest of the evening, chatting pleasantly with everybody as Harry dozed next to her. It warmed her heart that Harry still trusted them enough to let his guard down enough to sleep in their company, although, she thought, he looked agitated, even in sleep.

Mrs. Weasley was 46 years old and had seven children of her own blood, and she knew the signs of young love. Smiling to herself, she wondered if Harry and Hermione were as oblivious as most young people were. Still, she decided, there was three years separation between them, and while absence may make the heart grow fonder it also meant that there would be a lot of dancing around as Harry got used to being around people again. Looking around, she saw Remus looking at Harry fondly, then caught his eye. A mischievous grin told her that she wasn't the only one who thought that Harry and Hermione might be attracted to each other.

"Mum, Dad, we're back!!" Ron's voice came from the front door. There was a thump as packs were set down.

"Still no luck..." Ginny said as she walked into the parlor and stopped dead in her tracks, causing Seamus and Ron to bump into her and push her down the floor. "Harry…"

Hearing the ruckus, Harry was instantly awake and alert, wand in his hand and standing defensively in front of Hermione. His green eyes were sharp and looking for any danger. There was absolute silence as Ron, Ginny and Seamus stared at Harry disbelievingly. Harry knew that the coming argument would not be as easily resolved as the previous ones and mentally prepared himself for the red-headed tempers he would be faced with.

"Hi, guys.." he said as Ginny picked herself up off the floor and stalked towards Harry, slapping his already bruised cheek with all the force in her body.

"'Hi guys.' That's all you can say? Three bloody years of worry and looking for you. Not having any clue if you were even _alive_ and all you can say is _'hi guys_'?" Ginny snarled, her brown eyes flashing in anger.

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I understand that you were worried, but be rational, if I were dead, Voldemort would be crowing about it as he danced around my body."

Ron stepped forward and made to shake some sense into Harry, but Harry was faster. "Sorry, mate, but two is my daily limit," Hhe said, grasping Ron's wrist as his old friend made to hit him.

"Do you have any bloody idea how long we were searching for you, Potter?!" Ron yelled, wrenching his arm out of Harry's grip. "Do you have any idea how worried we were about you, going off like that alone? We would've followed you right into Voldemort's lair."

"And gotten killed in the process, Ron. I wasn't about to let anybody else get hurt. Snape was right, those years ago. I wasn't doing anything, and I was acting like a child, even as I demanded information. Well, I got off my bum and went out and did something about it. I'm not sorry about leaving without word, and I will not apologize. I'd rather have you all worried then out there with me getting killed. The prophecy said 'the _one_ with the power' not the 'group of friends'. I still don't know what the bloody 'power the Dark Lord knows not' was, but what ever it was, it worked, and the bloody bastard is gone! Do you want me to apologize for that?"

Ron recoiled slightly, and then dug his heels in. "So you think we're too helpless to keep ourselves safe? Is that it?" He snarled, fists balled up in indignation.

"Don't be an idiot Ron! You all faced down Death Eaters at fifteen, I know you can take care of yourself. Death Eaters you can handle, Voldemort was my job, and I wasn't going after Death Eaters, I was going after bits of Voldemort," Harry snapped.

Remus stood up and separated the two angry men. "Easy boys. Tempers are high right now and you're both exhausted. I think it's time for everybody to go to bed, and we can all talk in the morning when our heads are clear and tempers are cooled."

Harry nodded jerkily, but was nervous about actually turning his back to the angry redhead. Remus saw the slight fear in Harry's eyes and knew that while everybody had been worrying about finding Harry, Harry had been fighting for their life and his. He hadn't been around friendly people in three years and wasn't sure if Ron was still an ally or had become an enemy. Instincts kicking in, Remus wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders and gave Ron a look that clearly said back off, before leading Harry upstairs and fetching him some night clothes.

Ron, Seamus, and Ginny stood dumbfounded in the parlor as Remus and Harry disappeared up the stairs. Hermione frowned from her seat. "Ease off, Ron. I think he's suffered as much, if not more, than we have," she said quietly.

Still scowling slightly, Ron nodded and sat down in the arm chair that Remus had vacated.

Hermione eyed her friends for a moment then sighed. "Things are about to get very interesting," she murmured.

**Author's Notes 2: **Before you get annoyed with me, I promise that this will not be a Dumbledore or Ron bashing story. Tempers are running very high and everybody needs time to adjust. To those of you worried about sappy romance (or wanting sappy romance) you won't find it in this story. You may consider it a pre-romance however. I may or may not write a sequel. It depends. Ta everybody!


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